Page 65 of Revival

“Pardon?”

“He got another girl pregnant at the same time he knocked me up. Chose her and the two of them moved out of state when I was about five months along.”

Spencer just stares.

I pick at my cuticle and say, “I just know how to pick ’em. Cheaters and deserters.” The words fall easily out.

“I’m sorry.” Spencer’s gruff apology sends prickles along my spine.

“Spence, I didn’t mean—”

“I know the past two weeks isn’t enough to prove that to you, but I’ll say it until you can believe me. I’m so sorry for leaving you.”

“You are nothing like those men—if you can even call them men. You were a dumb teenager. I know because I have one, and they don’t always make the best decisions, especially when they’re worried about hurting someone they care about.”

“Love,” he interjects. When I stop talking, he takes a deep breath. “When they’re worried about hurting someone they loved.”

The muscles of my throat tighten like they’re being squeezed by a fist. “You never told me you loved me.”

“Miss Cortney!”

The high-pitched voice to my right interrupts the revelation. Delaney McBride, the woman from our flight two weeks ago, settles into her seat directly across the aisle from mine.

“Delaney, hi. Did you have a nice vacation?”

Her skin glows with a golden tan. The plane begins to taxi as we chat.

“Happiest place on earth.” She smiles. “And you? You look much more at ease than when we first met.”

A loose strand escapes my messy bun, and I tuck it behind my ear. “I am. Two weeks on the beach was exactly what I needed.”

She peers around me, winking as she meets my eyes again. “Does the man beside you have anything to do with it?” she whispers conspiratorially.

I can’t fight the blush. “No,” I whisper back with a grin.

“Mm-hmm.” She looks me up and down. “Seems to me like you caught yourself a fish.”

The engines roar to life, signaling our imminent takeoff. The plane begins picking up speed as I brush her off.

“Nothing wrong with a little harmless fun.” She winks.

I’m poised to respond when Spencer’s hand clamps down on mine. “Oh!” I startle.

“Sorry,” he grunts, releasing me from his tense hold.

Without a word, I slip my fingers beneath his fisted on his thigh and pull his hand into my lap. I hold on tight with one hand while the other draws invisible circles over his knuckles.

“It’s okay,” I murmur.

One thing clear from this trip is how far Spencer went out of his comfort zone for me. In the beginning, I teased him, using his discomfort for my own form of payback. Somewhere around our snorkeling excursion, it struck me just how uncomfortable he was. Not only with his appearance but also with these experiences he’s never had.

Flying, heights, the ocean.

All those things he did for me.

To make me happy.

The least I can do is hold his hand while he’s nervous.

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